


Bloodlust

by NeurotropicAgentX



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Blood Kink, Discussions of violence, Explicit Discussions of Biology, F/M, Menstrual Sex, Oral Sex, early established relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 14:53:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14083377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeurotropicAgentX/pseuds/NeurotropicAgentX
Summary: ‘Your body tastes like war.’





	Bloodlust

**Author's Note:**

> So, not what I was expecting to write for my first foray into the juggernaut pairing, but AlphaLightBearer’s [gorgeous art and headcanons](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8753110/chapters/30159420) _got_ to me and this is the result. 
> 
> And, as usual, many thanks to my editor for all her invaluable advice. Please heed the tags.

There was a knock on Bulma’s bedroom door. It had been a minor victory when Vegeta had finally picked up the habit. Apparently he’d always been in environments with advanced bio-scanning doors and locks that automatically granted or denied entry and made knocking unnecessary. Bulma suspected it had more to do with tendency to just go wherever he wanted. The way he managed to make even his damn knocking sound entitled supported her theory.

Technically, she’d given him his own room, but more and more often he’d been spending the night with her. When he wasn’t healing from the injuries he’d given himself in the gravity chamber, at least. 

Bulma wasn’t looking for sex tonight. She was a couple of days into her period and feeling pretty miserable about it. But having a saiyan heat-pack in bed sounded petty good right now. Vegeta’s metabolism was downright bizarre by human standards. He ran _several degrees_ hotter with no apparent ill effects to his enzymes. She needed to persuade him to give her a blood sample one of these days. 

There was another knock, more impatient this time. Bulma shook herself. Right. ‘Yeah, come in, but don’t get your hopes up!’ she called.

There was a pause before Vegeta came in and shut the door. He folded his arms. ‘You’re not interested in sex tonight?’ he asked bluntly. 

Bulma gave him a crooked smile. He was refreshingly open about… well, everything really. There was never any guesswork with him and he didn’t expect it either. It suited her just fine. ‘No, I’ve got my period, so no sex.’

There was no flinch from him, no blush. Bulma had seen grown men turn into stammering wrecks at the mere mention of menstruation. Vegeta just scowled instead. ‘That’s the fourth time you’ve said that.’ 

Bulma stared at him for a long moment. It had been around four months since they’d started this. Huh. She hadn’t been keeping track. ‘Well yeah, it’s been four months. Apparently,’ she added to herself in a mutter.

‘What does that have to do with anything?’

‘Four months, four periods,’ said Bulma. 

He continued to scowl at her. ‘What is it about periods that are more interesting to you than sex?’ he asked.

Bulma scowled back at him. ‘Hey. _You_ don’t have to deal with the constant discomfort, inconvenience and mess of it. I’m sure sex is always interesting to you, but sometimes, for me, it’s a little less urgent than the bleeding!’ 

Vegeta snorted. ‘I bleed way more often than you do.’

Anger drove Bulma to actually get out of bed so she could face him properly and use the height advantage she had over him. ‘You destroy yourself with training because of your own pig-headed choices! My body whacks me in the guts every month whether I want it to or not! Besides, it’s not as if it’s your dick bleeding unless you do something _really_ stupid.’ 

‘What are you talking about?’ Vegeta’s scowl had turned wary, the way it usually did when he was cornered into admitting ignorance about one Earth thing or another. 

It occurred to Bulma that he might not actually know about periods and that maybe aliens didn’t have them at all. Maybe the best thing would be to outline it all calmly so he’d actually understand why she was annoyed. But she was not in the mood to be accommodating. And the thing was, she never had to be with Vegeta. She never had to worry about hurting him and could push her own wants as hard as she liked with every scrap of her stubbornness. He’d never give in just to keep the peace or get pushed into something he wasn’t comfortable with. It made him, bizarrely enough, completely _safe_. Safe from her, at least. That was probably a large part of the reason that four months had passed between them without her even noticing. 

‘What am I talking about?!’ she repeated. ‘How about the fucking arms-race between my reproductive tract and any half-viable foetus that tries to latch on. My body tries to reject anything that won’t survive and it’s led to the longest, bloodiest waste of iron known to biology! And it does it every month just in case one’s trying to sneak in undetected! No other species on this _planet_ bleeds as heavily as humans and most don’t even bleed at all. So when I say I don’t want to have sex because I’m _bleeding from my vagina_ , maybe don’t ask me why periods are “more interesting to me than sex”!’

Vegeta was staring at her. He was too quiet. Usually when she started yelling, he started yelling back. She felt a pang of concern that she’d finally managed to scare him off. ‘Are you saying that your body rejects weakling progeny… automatically? In a flood of blood from your own body?’

Bulma gaped at him. ‘I, uh… kind of?’ _That_ was what he was taking away from this?

He nodded. ‘Impressive. So, humans have to win a battle to the death against their own mothers in order to be born. No wonder you all start off so weak. All the power goes into the first fight.’

‘That’s not… that’s not how anything works,’ said Bulma. But it wasn’t… far off. Kind of? If you tilted your head and squinted a bit.

Vegeta wasn’t listening. His gaze dragged down her body, stopping at the juncture of her legs. ‘And you’re bleeding,’ he said. There was something heated in his voice. He glanced back up at her. ‘For how long?’

‘About five days for me,’ she said.

He looked a little taken aback. ‘And you survive that?’

‘Every month,’ she said dryly. 

‘And you… _don’t_ want to have sex.’

Bulma glared at him. They were back to this, then. ‘You know the rule. No sex unless I get off and I doubt you’ll want to go for a hands-on approach with me right now.’

Vegeta smirked at her. Even in the middle of arguing she liked that smirk. ‘I don’t know why you think I _wouldn’t_ want blood.’ He took a half-step forward. ‘Your blood.’

Bulma opened her mouth and then closed it again. Sometimes when he’d been training, but hadn’t completely wrecked himself, he’d come to her with a handful of visible wounds. A few bruises, even broken skin, sometimes. She’d flirted with those injuries, knowing she couldn’t actually make them worse, but enjoying the way he’d arch and hiss at the contact. He liked pain in general, even his own, and she’d had his blood on her fingers, knew what it tasted like against her lips. But this was different, right? This was… something else. 

‘It would be... messy,’ she pointed out.

‘Good.’ His smirk had deepened. 

Bulma let out a long exhale. She was actually considering it. Orgasms did help with the cramps, after all. She was being logical about this and not getting caught up by the heat in his gaze, that focused stare. Nope, definitely one hundred per cent logic here.

‘Fine. I’ll get some towels,’ she said in a clipped tone. She went into her en suite and grabbed every towel in the place, even the ones in the cupboard. She laid them over the bedcovers and only snuck a couple of glances at Vegeta, who was busy undressing. The last thing she did was duck back into the bathroom to get rid of her tampon and give herself a quick rinse in the shower. 

Vegeta was waiting for her by the edge of the bed. He’d stripped down to his undergarments. Bulma eyed him. Damn, he had a nice body. The proportions weren’t quite human-normal, even with all that extra muscle mass taken into account. The tendons were just a bit different, the bone arrangement subtly off. It should have made him look _wrong_ , but instead Bulma just found it endlessly fascinating and unfairly hot.

She sat in the middle of the bed, making sure there were several layers of towel between her and the mattress. She tried to look casual, crossing one leg beneath her other one and leaning back to rest her weight on her arms. However, her reservations about doing this were flooding back, so she cocked an eyebrow in Vegeta’s direction. ‘Are you waiting for permission or something?’ she taunted. ‘Take it off, soldier.’ 

He glared at her, but shed his last layer with brisk, irritated movements. On some level he probably had been waiting for her to say something. If only because he was careful around her, in his own way. Bulma hadn’t brought up the way he didn’t seem to mind doing what she said when it came to petty things. Like taking showers. She was almost superstitiously worried that if she ever said anything he’d stop, just to be contrary. 

Once Vegeta was fully naked he climbed on the bed in front of her. The weight of his gaze was nearly a physical force. He leaned forward to place a hand on her knee and glanced up at her face. His caution had surprised her back at the beginning, and Bulma had straight up asked him if he could control his powers in bed. Vegeta had found that amusing, explaining that actually tapping into his ki and the serious power that came with it was a difficult, martial discipline. _Accidently_ accessing that kind of power was laughable, apparently. Bulma had explained that she didn’t appreciate being laughed at regarding an area she had no reason to know anything about. She had explained this loudly and violently. At length. In a roundabout way that had set the tone of their relationship.

Despite all that, Vegeta never lost his edge of wariness whenever they started out in bed. He got all evasive whenever she tried to confront him over it, so she’d let it go. There was one sure way to get him over it quickly. Bulma huffed a laugh and grabbed him by the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. He let himself get dragged forward and she nipped at his mouth. He growled at her, but it was a very different sound to his irritated growl, and he bit her back. When she stuck her tongue in his mouth he shivered, especially when she traced the tips of his too-sharp canines. 

She drew back for a breath. ‘Yeah, still not made of glass so you can stop treating me like it,’ she pointed out.

‘You keep saying that, too. Is this the day I get the explanation that human bodies have some final glass-form that makes them stronger in combat?’

Bulma snorted. She was almost sure that was a joke. Almost. It was hard to tell with Vegeta. But he was talking now, instead of just staring at her warily and touching her cautiously, and that was the main goal. This time he put both hands on her legs and swept them down her thighs, pushing them apart.

Bulma swallowed. She wasn’t self-conscious of her body, even when surrounded by weirdly muscled fighters, but she was a little self-conscious of what her body was _doing_. It wasn’t helping that Vegeta was staring at her again. She knew she was bleeding and she knew he could see it. But Vegeta’s expression was shamelessly avid and that… did help.

Then Vegeta lunged forward and buried his face between her legs. Bulma yelped and one of her hands automatically buried itself in his hair as she desperately sought an anchor. She’d expected him to touch her, not, not _eat her out_. The first touch of his tongue was nearly electric. She was desperately sensitive, had always gotten that way around her period, and Vegeta was pressing the flat of his tongue right against her clit. Her self-consciousness was slamming up against radiating pleasure and the pleasure was winning. 

Bulma clenched her thighs around Vegeta’s head. He grunted in response and then his tongue slid lower. A strangled noise tore from Bulma’s throat as he pressed into her. The bastard was actually lapping at her blood. Each pass of his tongue created unpredictable sparks of pleasure. But more than that, he was moaning against her. The sound was muffled by her thighs, but it was unmistakable. She’d heard it often enough in those last four months to know when Vegeta was _really_ into something.

Even with the pleasure scrambling her thoughts, Bulma noticed that Vegeta was rutting against the bedcovers. He must be aching for it, just from this, just from the… taste of her. It was the hottest thing Bulma had ever seen. She tightened her grip in Vegeta’s hair and tried to drag him closer. Naturally, he didn’t even register it, but she did succeed in pulling herself closer. She _felt_ the noise he made in response and she jerked against his face. He grabbed at one of her thighs, like he was steadying _himself_ and his tongue pressed against her. It wasn’t even friction, just this glorious slide. 

Bulma’s hips were twitching up against him in time with his rhythm. She was close, the pleasure going from a heavy ache to sharper little pulses. ‘Come on,’ she growled at him, not even sure what she was demanding. She yanked at his hair and one of her heels thudded against his back as she got as close as physically possible. It earned her a pleased little growl and Vegeta dragged his tongue up to her clit and then sucked on it.

Bulma howled and arched up against him as she came. There was a deep throb of pleasure centred between her legs and she _really_ wanted to come again. But Vegeta probably wanted to breathe. She unclenched her thighs and tugged him back. He got the message and leaned back, propping himself up on his arms. Her blood was smeared over his lips and down his jaw. He looked gorgeous, dangerous. 

His eyes were dark and his tongue swept over his lips as he stared at her. ‘Your body tastes like war.’

Bulma flushed. She hadn’t expected compliments from him, or if she had, she’d have expected backhanded ones. But when Vegeta was trying to be nice, the things he came out with were downright _surreal_. Like that time a month ago when he’d said ‘your hair grows like an empire.’ What was she supposed to _do_ with comments like that?

‘Uh, thanks,’ she said, the picture of eloquence. She shook herself, refocusing on her body and way more immediate desires. ‘Your turn,’ she said. ‘And I want to get off again too.’

He nodded at her decisively. ‘Fine. And you’re not keeping your blood to yourself anymore?’ Only the barest hint of an upward inflection made it a question.

Bulma snorted. ‘That’s not quite the logic, but we can go with that.’

Vegeta’s expression stayed serious, ignoring her invitation to lighten the mood. ‘No, it makes sense. You hide a wound if there’s any doubt. Even with your ability to survive a bleed like that, I understand why you’d keep it private.’ He tilted his head, his gaze wandering back up to her face. ‘It’s odd to be trusted like this.’

Bulma opened her mouth and then closed it again. She _didn’t_ trust Vegeta. Well, maybe trusted him not to attack her. And it was easy enough to _predict_ what he’d do, which was kind of like trusting him. Then again, she obviously trusted him enough to let him explore period sex despite her reservations. And it had been four months. ‘Yeah, it’s a little odd for me too,’ she admitted.

Vegeta nodded again, but he was clearly distracted. His hand slid down the inside of her thigh and he brushed his fingertips against her, coating them in her blood. Bulma bit her lip. Even that light contact felt great against her over-sensitive flesh. It was an effort not to grab his hand and press it into her. ‘Alright, come on, I’m like ninety per cent sure your weird blood thing extends to wanting to stick your dick in, so let’s go already,’ she snapped at him.

Vegeta flashed his teeth in something resembling a grin. ‘Of course. Don’t underestimate the appeal of blood to a saiyan.’

But he still wasn’t _moving_ , so Bulma shifted up until she could straddle his lap. Vegeta grabbed at her thighs reflexively and she pushed him back toward the bed. He didn’t budge at all. Fighters! Instead, he was staring down at his lap. Her blood was already smeared across his thighs. The noise he made was soft enough that she almost missed it. He finally shifted so his cock ground against her. It didn’t take more than a few seconds for it to end up coated in blood too. 

Vegeta was breathing heavily and still staring down at the both of them. Patience was not something she associated with him, but apparently her blood was enough of an appeal to even beat more obvious gratification. Bulma wasn’t sure if that should worry her, but she put it from her mind. Right now the most important thing in the world was that infuriatingly too-light tease of his cock brushing up against her. ‘Now!’ she snarled at him.

Vegeta’s expression was full of desperation and heat. He pushed into her. Bulma arched her back and gave a short cry that quickly devolved into half-furious demands. The angle wasn’t the best, but the sensation was much slicker than what she was used to, which was _fantastic_. ‘Faster,’ she gasped. 

Vegeta might have said something, but it was pretty unintelligible through his clenched teeth. Without a hint of effort, he heaved the two of them up until he could push her back down against the bed. He barely lost his rhythm and his hips snapped forward, giving her the speed she’d ordered. She clawed at his back, probably hard enough to draw blood from a human, but he just grunted and grinned down at her, always elated when he got those kinds of responses from her.

Bulma was close. She always found the second one came easier and her entire body felt like it was straining toward it. Impatient, she reached down and rubbed at her clit. Touching herself when she was on her period wasn’t something she did much and boy were those days frustrating. Now, with Vegeta’s bizarre enthusiasm for it in the forefront of her mind, Bulma didn’t even hesitate. She arched against her hand, pushed herself against Vegeta, and lost herself to the wave of pleasure that ripped through her body. She clenched down hard, but Vegeta still managed to rock into her, drawing out a shivering set of aftershocks. 

Bulma forced her eyes open. Vegeta had that half-crazed look in his eyes, which meant he was close. She smirked up at him and trailed her hand down his cheek, leaving a fresh trail of bright red down his face. Vegeta cried out, his body tensing above her as he came. His throat was bared when he threw his head back and if Bulma’s body hadn’t felt so heavy with pleasure she would have bitten his neck, just to see what he’d do.

He collapsed down beside her, panting. Bulma let herself just lie there for a few moments while the world reasserted itself. Once her breathing rate had slowed down a little and she could no longer hear her own pulse, she stood up with a stretch and walked over to the en suite. She left most of the towels for the moment, only snagging one to take in with her. Vegeta looked like he’d just walked off a battlefield and she didn’t want him rolling all over her sheets until he’d showered too.

Once she’d rinsed off and inserted a fresh tampon, she came back into the bedroom and threw her towel at Vegeta’s head. ‘Wash off or find somewhere else to sleep,’ she said.

Vegeta groaned something at her that was muffled by the towel, but he hauled himself up and stomped off to the shower. Bulma was settled beneath the sheets by the time he came back and crawled in beside her.

‘Took your time,’ Bulma said.

He turned to look at her and smirked. ‘I was admiring the patterns of your blood on my skin.’

‘Uh… should I be worried about that?’ Bulma asked. She was joking. Mostly joking. 

Vegeta shrugged. ‘I’m a saiyan. I like violence and blood.’ He leaned in a little, something sharp glinting in his eyes. ‘But you knew that.’

Bulma met his gaze unflinchingly. ‘Yeah, I knew that. You’re not exactly _subtle_.’

Vegeta barked a laugh and leaned back again. ‘And I know you’re not exactly a fighter. Hurting you wouldn’t be a challenge and you wouldn’t have sex with me again if I did.’

‘You got that right, buddy,’ she snapped.

Vegeta rolled back over to stare at the ceiling. ‘I never thought I’d enjoy sex without proper violence, but it turns out it’s nice when it doesn’t really hurt. But this was… interesting, too. Blood without injury, the feeling of violence without pain. Just… interesting.’

There was a lot to unpack in that, but Bulma was quietly filing it away in the ‘disturbing shit Vegeta comes out with’ box. She had some pretty clear ideas about what his life had been like back in the day. His past didn’t seem to have left him with many side-effects, other than a tendency to get nostalgic about some downright unsettling things. She kind of liked it. That probably said more about her than him. 

‘I still can’t believe you went down on me,’ she said after a moment.

‘That was the best part!’ Bulma propped herself up on one elbow so she could give him a sceptical look. He waved away the expression. ‘Yes, obviously I enjoyed the orgasm too, but sex is sex. This was the taste of _war_. You’ve probably never been on the sort of battlefield where everyone’s packed together and you’re tearing apart enemies hard enough that the blood just sort of hangs in the air. It gets in your nose, in your throat, until you’re breathing it in, and the only sound is the screaming and your own pulse thundering in your head.’ Vegeta gave a wistful sort of sigh. ‘I miss that. That’s the taste of _freedom_.’

Bulma gaped at him. This was the sort of moment that really reminded her exactly what she was dealing with. It was stuff like this that made her take a good long look at the sort of person that she was voluntarily inviting to share her bed. And not just for sex, he’d be _sleeping_ here tonight, with her, probably dreaming of his messed-up battlefields and past slaughters. Probably with a faint smile on his face. 

Bulma cleared her throat. ‘You know it happens every month,’ she said. ‘And look, if you’re into it, sex helps with my cramps, so we can do this again.’

Vegeta smirked up at her. ‘Good.’

Bulma grabbed his arm and tugged him around until he was in the position she wanted. He humoured her, which was good, because she’d have no compunctions about kicking him back to his own bed if he wasn’t prepared to cooperate. She lay against him so his over-warm body was pressing low against her guts. Now _that_ felt nice. ‘Good,’ she repeated and let her eyes drift shut.


End file.
